Dependence
by Sifl-senpai
Summary: Videl loves her husband. She just regrets marrying him. (Simultaneously pro-Videl and pro-Gohan, but anti-Gohan/Videl. This is a story that is literally about that ship sinking, but in the realest way possible. Everything after chapter two is why it is rated M.)
1. Dependence (Part 1)

**Author's Notes:**

 **First and foremost, please do not come crying to me if you are upset that the ship sinks. You were warned in the summary, and I already know I am a terrible, horrible, ugly monster. And please don't ask me to change the pairing tag because this is an entire story ABOUT Gohan/Videl, mushy and happy or otherwise.**

 **(I can practically feel the hate emanating at me for this one if the right people see it. Um... I am prepared.)**

 **So for my other big Dragonball work, Heavy, I got a lot of questions that more or less ask the question, or ask AROUND the question, "why is Gohan/Videl not happening?" And to be completely honest, I don't care for the ship long-term. I think Videl is a great first girlfriend kind of character, and had the potential to be really cool! And when she married Gohan, that stopped happening. (Also some of the Gohan/Videl fan fictions on here are fricking amazing and make me almost okay with it, which is saying something.)**

 **So... This is one part story, and one part manifesto of why I don't dig Gohan/Videl in the show. Hopefully I still treat both characters with respect even though I am sinking the crap out of that ship. Thank you for reading.**

 **If I get enough feedback I'll probably do a second part that is basically just about how utterly broken up about this Gohan is as a single dad with a four-year-old.**

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Her husband sat in the oversized chair by his overflowing desk, his tea in one hand and a book open in his lap. He had turned off the harsh overhead lights and instead let the homey lamp behind him cast a soft, warm glow across the study like honey spilling over bread. Tiny Pan leaned against her father's side, asleep, with his arm curled around her when it was not flipping the pages of the book.

Videl watched Gohan from the doorway as he contentedly alternated between soothing their daughter and focusing on his text. The golden light- golden from the lamp, not from anything so spectacular as his strength made manifest- reflected off his glasses and illuminated his serene expression. He looked so happy.

This honeymoon of peace and sweet devotion Gohan offered had been so appealing back when they were first married.

Majinn Buu's nightmarish influence had awoken Videl to the reality about her father's heroism and strength, and then tossed her own identity out to be torn apart into flotsam and jetsam on a tumultuous sea. Gohan had promised to always protect her and love her, and it had been so wonderful to know that there was a person so strong and so kind to let her in on the world's biggest secrets and still bear the brunt of all their consequences. Videl had all but begged Gohan to put her back together in the form of something that would fit into his life. How could she have not?

And how like him to get her to change so much without asking her to change at all.

Videl used to be the daughter of the man who saved the world. She fought crime in the name of justice and for titles in the name of competition because she was going to be the strongest under the heavens someday. And once, Gohan _was_ the strongest under the heavens. He had torn monsters asunder with the force of his own passions. Now, as her husband, he cooked dinner, changed diapers, and read about the world that they used to really _live_ in.

As his wife, Videl came home to sweet little tokens of unconditional love and soft-spoken affection, day after day. Before Pan and after her had been the same.

She took it all for granted now.

"I see you there," Videl's husband said, looking up. The glare of his lenses adjusted so she could see his smiling eyes. Carefully, as not to wake their sleeping child, Gohan set down his teacup on the desk between his other clutter and extended his hand towards his wife.

Videl came closer and reached out, but something made her hesitate from sliding her fingers between his the same way she had so many times prior. She willed herself to paint a wider smile on her face and take his hand.

Gohan noticed the hiccup. He rubbed the back of Videl's palm with his thumb and brought it up to rest on his neck. He sent his own hand back to rest above her hip. "What's wrong?" He asked, keeping his voice low for Pan.

Videl stroked Gohan's short hair. It lay flat on his head now like a regular man's, and would need to be trimmed soon. She was trying to grow her own back out again to the length it had been when they had first met. "Nothing," she said.

Her husband's dark eyes knew otherwise. She still smiled back at him, though, and he moved his hand from her waist to caress her face.

"I love you," Gohan said, as soothing and patient as always.

"I know," she told him, and escaped with their sleeping daughter to get ready for bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Their four-poster bed was a work of art, with whorls and designs covering the entirety of the wooden frame. Videl's father had it specially built and carved by a master craftsman from a place she couldn't pronounce. Gohan's mother had made the comforter and sheets from the finest silks that the Ox King could procure.

Gohan laid down and scooted towards Videl. She stayed put on her side and looked at the wall. It was a tasteful, plain color.

Gohan gently put his arms around his wife from beneath the covers. He pulled himself closer to her, and Videl tried to feel as warm and loved as the body curling around her wanted to make her. Gohan softly kissed the side of her neck and traced her body through her nightgown. Then, he toyed with the hem of the skirt and put his arms back around her when she did nothing to engage him.

Gohan had never been insistent, and he had never demanded. He pressed his face into his wife's neck and breathed in her scent. Always gentle, and always kind. That was her husband.

Videl turned around in his arms and considered him with a kiss. He was very receptive and kissed back, eager to please. She kept him there, with his hands securely on her waist, and pushed her hands under his nightshirt. He smiled and kept kissing her, his hands moving lovingly up and down her back and her legs.

This was nothing new. Videl pushed Gohan away and peeled off his shirt before he could so much as whisper how he felt in his wife's ear. She stripped him of his boxers next, and pulled herself close to intercept his kisses with bites.

He took it all in, a little surprised, and let her push him around while he softly lifted her skirt and wandered his hands over her back and front, taking care not to dig his fingers in or grab too hard.

Videl growled in the back of her throat and made him take off her nightgown. Then she pulled him on top of her and clawed at his back while she bit into his neck. He was leaner now than when they had first married, and the hard edges of his muscles had disappeared with domestication. She was sure that she was much the same way. Her teeth grew meaner and her fingers rougher.

Gohan buried his face in her hair and pulled one of her hands off of him to intertwine their fingers. He tried to nuzzle her face away from his neck and shoulder for another kiss.

He was always too gentle.

Videl yanked her hand away and tore at his ear with her teeth. "Why won't you be a little rough with me, huh?"

She felt her husband's hair brush against her as he shook his head and then pressed the sides of their faces together.

"It's okay," Videl pleaded, reaching down to try and stimulate him more directly.

Gohan grabbed her hands and pulled himself away to look at her. "Stop," he said. "Please don't ask me to do things that way."

"Why _not?"_ Videl said. She knew it was selfish, but he was hers to have and to hold.

"Because I don't... I don't like it. You are someone I love, not someone I want to hurt."

Videl ground her teeth and threw herself at him again, but this time with real frustration. "I might _want_ you to hurt me a little bit," she said between bites and kisses. "You ever think about that?"

Her husband pushed her away and held her. His expression was unreadable despite the pale moonlight filtering through the windows. Bulma had once told Videl that Gohan used to turn into a wild beast in the light of the full moon. Videl felt lied to.

Finally, Gohan sighed and held her wrists beside her head. He gave her a few tentative kisses before biting her bottom lip and pressing their hips together. Videl could tell how unenthused he was, and pushed him off. She turned away and faced the wall.

"I'm sorry," Gohan said, putting his arms back around her. Videl considered swatting them away, but saw little point. She let him bury his face back into her neck as they laid in the bed their parents had made for them.

Gohan was _always_ so gentle.

It drove her nuts.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Money had never been an issue for Videl. Mark Satan paid the bills when she was a child and now that she was grown, the money she lived off of was no longer her father's, but her husband's.

But then _, even the money that was her father's was actually her husband's_. Videl had been Gohan's dependent since she was nine and Mark Satan's savior of the Earth act became a widely believed media gimmick.

Videl sometimes felt a little like a possession, too, actually. At first, she had been so happy to share her family's fortune freely with Son Gohan and had pushed it on him the same way she had pushed teaching her to fly onto him, but eventually it sank in that what she was throwing in his face was not actually hers to give. While Videl watched her husband work while she played with Pan, she wondered if she was also part of the property her father owed Son Gohan and marriage her was her husband's way of coming to collect.

Gohan stood up from his desk and stretched. "I need a break," he said, and plopped down onto the carpet in front of Videl and Pan. He leaned forward and gave his wife a kiss.

"Ew," said Pan, four and convinced that boys kissing girls was gross.

Gohan flipped their daughter over and tickled her. "Oh, yeah? Well, I've got you! You're mine now!" Gohan said over Pan's laughter.

Videl watched quietly, pensive. Her husband noticed her melancholy mood- he always did- and took one hand away from their daughter to tickle Videl, too.

Videl struggled as she laughed and Gohan pulled both of his girls close. "You're mine, too!" He said to his wife, grinning and blowing a raspberry on her neck.

Videl knew Gohan was innocent of any double meaning, but it bothered her all the same. She pulled away and helped him gang up on their daughter.

He was watching her from the corner of his eye, but she was glad that he did not say anything about it later. She was not sure what she would have said.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Videl's mother-in-law had Gohan at nineteen. According to Chi Chi, that was entirely later than she had planned on.

"I had thought I would have him at maybe seventeen or eighteen, like you did with Pan," Chi Chi said.

"But aren't you glad that you had a little extra time to have for yourself?" Videl asked between bites of the strawberry daifuku Chi Chi had made especially for Goten's eleventh birthday.

The birthday boy was currently stuffing his face along with his father and Pan, so it fell to the adult women to make conversation over the sounds of voracious consumption.

Videl's mother-in-law pursed her lips. "I had to use all of that time tracking down my wayward husband and fretting about where he might be, or if he even remembered that we were supposed to be married."

"I remembered!" Son Goku interjected, five pieces of daifuku and a bite of cake in his mouth. Chi Chi laughed. "After Chi Chi gave me a little reminder," Goku clarified, swallowing.

"See?" Chi Chi said, returning to the kitchen to fix more food for her family.

Videl floundered for a reply. "But, is all you wanted out of life children and a husband, and then to see your children want the same?" It came out before her mental filter had censored it properly. "Doesn't that bother you?"

The even, simple clatter of Chi Chi sitting her wok down on the stove sounded like a death knell meant for only those it rang for to hear and understand. "This family is very traditional and so are its values," Chi Chi said. "Family is very important. Family breeds happiness. To support one's family is the greatest honor and happiness." Videl remembered too late that Chi Chi was the princess of a culture far removed from Videl's own, and so old that Videl had not bothered to learn it at all, or even think about what it might mean to marry into it.

Goku blinked and looked from his wife, to his daughter-in-law, to Pan, and then to his oldest son before looking back to Videl. "Isn't that what you are after, too?" He said, even more earnest and innocent than either of his sons.

Videl had the grace to smile and keep her mouth shut, but she could feel Chi Chi's eyes watching her.

Next to her, Gohan shifted where Pan sat in his lap and reached for his wife's hand. Videl let him hold it, but her returning grip was limp and insincere.

When Gohan and Videl returned to their home in Satan City, Gohan put Pan to bed and confronted Videl in the bedroom.

The two of them sat, silent, on their respective sides of the bed. Gohan took off his shoes and socks, slowly, and then stood up and undid his shirt and pants. They all hit the ground with a soft thud. Videl heard the fabric rustle as Gohan folded them into the laundry basket.

Videl kept her dress and shrug on, and wondered when she had decided to let her nails grow so long and become so cumbersome, and why she felt the need for them to co-ordinate with her clothing just because she had gone to visit Chi Chi that afternoon.

Gohan finished changing and slowly slid into the covers. Videl could hear his fingers twiddling the silk.

"If you want to leave for a little while and take a vacation from," her husband swallowed, "from me and Pan, you can. Or if you wanted to take up martial arts again, or find a job, or start a business, or go back to school, or anything, I'll be happy for you and help make that happen in any way I can. You don't have to do anything special to please me or my mom, and you never did."

Videl knew he meant every word from the core of his being. Her husband was everything anyone could ever want, and better than anyone had ever deserved.

Gohan had never been the problem, not really. She was. It was a tired old party line, but it was true.

Gohan's wife did not want her husband's help. She did not want his support. Videl wanted to be able to stand on her own two feet for once in her life and go after her dreams without feeling like she was being pampered or coddled or someone was holding her hand for every step of the way. She wanted to fight, and she wanted to lose sometimes, and then pick herself back up to fight another day. Videl wanted the kind of adventure and unknown that had caused her to marry Gohan in the first place.

She loved her husband. Really, she did. And he loved her. But she did not love being sucked into the too-comfortable trap of spending the rest of her life with him.

She wanted to be Videl Satan now, not Son Videl.


	2. Autonomy (Part 2)

**Author's Notes:**

 **Okay, okay, I caved and wrote a second part due to demand. There are like a million and five things I wanted to say but I think this covers most of the important parts... I cut a conversation with Gohan, Krillin, and Yamcha because it made this thing drag too much. Maybe I'll incorporate it into** _ **Heavy**_ **somehow. I dunno. Maybe I will do more with this. It kind of depends on how much instant gratification I get, if I may be so blunt and shallow about it. Hahaha!**

 **Thanks to most of you for being receptive, and to the rest of you for being mature and polite. And thank you for reading and reviewing!**

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 _ **Autonomy**_

Videl had left him the house, half her inherited fortune, the furniture, and full physical custody of their daughter.

Gohan had outright refused the house, balked at the money and furniture, and had asked Videl, in a tiny voice, "Is it because Pan is not human?"

Videl had told him that the money was really his anyway and that he should take it, and that Pan's bedroom furniture would be useful. She had also seen through his question about their daughter. "No. It is because both of you are human."

Gohan had wanted to tell her that he could change, that deep inside, he really did have the biology of one of the most wild, resilient, and adaptable creatures in the universe, but knew that trying to win her back by saying so would undermine his point. Divorce was a change. Keeping Videl was homeostasis. Gohan could not see himself succeeding in maintaining the latter by using the former as his argument.

He wanted so badly to reach for his wife's hand as the papers were signed, but she was again Videl Satan the celebrity and he was Son Gohan the scholar and that was impossible.

"You can come see Pan anytime," Gohan tried. "She loves you, and she'll miss you."

Videl shook her head. "I'm not leaving my daughter behind. I am still her mother, and I am going to be that forever. Please don't mistake me leaving you for abandoning her ever again."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gohan tucked his little girl into bed. She reached out for him and caught his sleeve. "Daddy," Pan said, looking into his face, "Tell me again why we are moving soon?"

Gohan smiled and stroked her hands. "Your mother and I, we thought," he choked on the almost-lie that he nearly told, "We are going to live in two different houses." He hoped that was a sufficient answer.

Pan was smarter than that. "But why?"

But why, indeed. He wondered why he was perpetually made to deal with the ugly things that his loved ones left undone. "She has... important things she needs to do by herself, and you and I will have lots of fun living in the mountains where grandma and grandpa are. Won't you like that?"

Pan nodded, slowly. "I guess."

Gohan kissed her forehead and drew her covers up higher around her.

"Are you and Mommy mad at each other?" Pan was still digging. The awkward silences that had permeated the house for the past month must have caught her attention.

"No, sweetheart," he said, and it felt like a punch in the gut because it was actually the truth.

Videl was not mad at Gohan. She just did not want him anymore.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gohan bought a capsule house and moved back to Mount Paozu, across from his parents. He indulged his mother and let her homeschool her granddaughter. Gohan pleased his father by asking him to teach Pan, too, but about martial arts. For the Ox King, the whole ordeal was an opportunity to spoil his great granddaughter with surprise presents more often.

Goten was thrown into orbit since he was no longer the family's resident baby and could not get away with everything anymore, and Gohan regretted their solidarity of displacement. But the youngest Son boy just grinned and said that, hey, they were brothers, and they could share a little of everything just like they did when they were younger. It would be like old times.

Gohan wished he could be as laissez-faire about the changes in his life as everyone else.

Even Pan was thrilled about it all when she was not asking about her mother. Goku and Goten would shrug to her questions and say Videl was probably doing fine, and Chi Chi would turn away.

Pan's father, meanwhile, scheduled for children's divorce counseling and asked himself why he was not good enough or strong enough to help Pan work through this without a stranger's help. He was her primary guardian and lived with her, but he felt like what he was really doing was breaking her time with him apart into little pieces to give to other people. Not only was Videl no longer his wife, but it sometimes felt like Pan was almost no longer his daughter.

Gohan felt very alone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After the initial lull from the chaos of rearranging her life, Videl also siphoned away some of their daughter's time and arranged outings with her often. Videl never lingered on the mountain long, and Gohan knew better than to try and say hello while keeping everything else from coming out. He would kiss his daughter goodbye and double-check her little backpack for all of the things she would need, and then retreat into his study.

Sometimes, Gohan would see Videl leaving when he could not help but look out his window. Her hair was longer now, and she walked with more purpose. Sometimes, she would take Pan by the hand and fly through the air with her.

Gohan would catch himself reaching out to feel Videl's energy signature before it faded into the distance. He could not help it.

Goten would usually wander in afterwards with some bogus excuse as to why he was in Gohan's house. Trunks was most often the vehicle for such convenient appearances- the two liked to bring gifts of Capsule Corporation gadgets or compiled studies, or sometimes they asked him to help them with their homework even when Trunks already knew the answers.

Gohan was the adult, the firstborn, and he was supposed to be as invincible as Son Goku. If he broke down and pushed some of his pain on them, he was not sure he could forgive himself.

He eventually started locking his study door, and then the windows when Goten began coming in through those.

Gohan had to replace both twice before the boys gave it up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Pan had a particularly messy training session with her grandfather and Gohan was bathing her to try and remedy the situation. Getting the berry juice out of her hair and off her skin was particularly difficult, and Gohan suspected that his father's and daughter's sparring session had turned into an outright food fight at some point. Pan's gi lay totally ruined on the bathroom floor.

Of course Son Goku would choose to use something that stained as his ammunition. Gohan chuckled to himself as he realized how much like his own mother he sounded.

"Did you have fun with your Grandpa today?" Gohan asked his little girl.

"Yes!" Pan said. "Except when he got all this stuff all over me! But I got him back real good!" She turned and grinned at her father, revealing a tongue and teeth painted purple-black from berry juice.

Gohan quietly remembered seeing his own reflection in a puddle after a particularly nasty lesson from Piccolo that had left him with a mouthful of blood. He had been about Pan's age.

Everything was so different. "I'm sure you taught him a thing or two about what happens when he tries to get the jump on you, sweetheart," Gohan said, rubbing at the back of her neck a little harder.

Pan laughed for a little while as she swayed to and fro in the bathtub from Gohan's scrubbing. Then, she enveloped her father with her big, dark eyes. "You and Mommy should come with us to play sometime, maybe when Grandma isn't making Goten stay in so that he can come, too. Grandpa showed me this secret place behind the waterfall. It's so cool!"

"Oh," Gohan said. "Well. Maybe, if you ask Grandpa if it's okay, your mother can go with you two one day and I can come the next time." That was all he could say. Somehow, Goku and Piccolo's careful training had only prepared him for wilderness survival and to-the-death combat, not domestic confrontations. Gohan had neither the desire nor the mental steel for either, and that distaste had cost him the woman he loved.

Instead of shouting or making a scene, Gohan had sat his ex-wife down and tried to talk out their problems when she had expressed her desire to leave. What a stupid thing for him to have done. All they had accomplished was planting a seed of guilt in Gohan for marrying someone he loved and being happy with his life.

His mother had felt the same guilt when Gohan's father had first made his decision to stay dead. She had eventually begun to think that Goku had left- and had been leaving, and had constantly been in the process of entering and exiting her life- because he was unhappy with their marriage, and with her. Little Gohan had been Chi Chi's shoulder to cry on, and she had inadvertently taught her baby boy to be everything she had wanted Son Goku to be for her.

Gohan figured he had caused her suffering, in part, and threw himself at the task of stopping it.

Being a surrogate husband and a father- and attentive and loving, and gentle and kind- was the first task that Gohan not only excelled at, but that brought him joy. It was so different than being asked to murder monsters. Gohan's efforts made everyone happy, for once- his mother would not be so sad, and his little brother would ride on his back and hold his hand and give Gohan that huge smile he had inherited from Goku, and the family would feel almost whole again.

Gohan wanted to please his special people.

Pan frowned. "I don't want to have to always do everything twice. I want us all to go as a family, because she is my Mommy and you are my Daddy. I want us to all have fun together."

Gohan started to tell his daughter that while Videl was her family, she was no longer his family anymore, and being around him like that so soon would not make Videl happy. But that answer would not please Pan. Gohan could not win, and his efforts never made it past the lump in his throat.

"Daddy?" Pan asked, turning to look at him again when his rhythmic scrubbing stopped.

Gohan reached into the tub and pulled his sopping wet daughter close. He figured his forming tears could hide in her bath water. "I love you," he said to Pan. "I'm so proud of you. And I'll never stop loving you, or being proud of you, and I'll never leave you." He held her tighter and felt his shoulders shake. "I love you so much!"

Pan hugged him and Gohan hated himself for making her have to comfort her broken father the same way he had done for his mother. "Don't cry," she said, and Gohan asked himself how many times Piccolo had instructed the same thing and how many times Gohan had failed to do what was asked of him.

But he could not lock his daughter out the same way he had done to Goten and Trunks. Not his little girl. It would destroy him.

"I love you too, Daddy," Pan said, rubbing his back in a desperate attempt to soothe him. It only made her father cry harder.

Gohan's deepest need was to love and be loved, he realized.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The saddest part of it all, Gohan decided, was that he was capable of falling in love with literally anyone.

The discovery rammed him in the face in tandem with Piccolo's spit as the Namek's concern finally expressed itself as a clipped, choked rant.

"Your training! You should never have neglected it! And marrying so young! Idiot!" Piccolo's eyes were redder and wider than usual, and his hands clenched at his sides rather than resting within his crossed arms. He was furious, and he felt helpless.

Gohan knew that his teacher's outburst was a misguided attempt to transform Gohan's grief into something that could be burned into nothingness, something that Piccolo could handle by beating it out of Gohan, like a violent wrath, but this situation was nothing so straightforward as misplaced aggression. Piccolo probably even knew it, but could not stand to watch Gohan exist as a wounded shadow of himself.

Somewhere inside, Gohan appreciated the effort even though Piccolo's words hurt him further because they were not exactly untrue. But Gohan loved Piccolo, so he forgave him for the damage- after all, Piccolo's love was like violence most of the time. Gohan was used to it.

Piccolo had tried to kill Gohan's father once, and succeeded another time. He had also kidnapped his student and sent him spiraling into a lifestyle of terror and warfare. But Gohan still loved him all the same, and had chosen to love him even through the fear and uncertainty of their first days together, and their crushing aftermath. Piccolo's favorite child could not help but love, and unconditionally. Gohan even loved Vegeta, and the man had committed repeated, unapologetic, malicious, and cruel acts of murder and destruction repeatedly throughout the time Gohan had known him.

If Gohan loved those two after everything, then he certainly still loved Videl. He would love her forever. It was not even a question. To learn to love Videl from a distance would be ideal, but he could not begin to understand how to do so when she was always so near, picking up Pan from the house or living her life in a place where her ex-husband could effortlessly sense her familiar energy signal.

She was the Son Goku to Gohan's Chi Chi, he realized. She was never with him, but she was never gone long enough for him to close the wound and let it heal.

A piece of him hoped that Videl really was like Goku- that she did love Gohan, and she would come back. He wished she were as cluelessly selfish as his father, who loved as easily and as freely as he lived and left.

But Gohan was too smart for that.

He could find someone else to love. That in and of itself would be easy, but who could he find to love him back? Who in this galaxy would even want someone like him? He was the disappointingly boring child of a phenomenal, impossible, unbelievable, and dangerous fairy tale.

More damning, he was a single father with emotional baggage and the well-being and happiness of a five-year-old daughter to think about. He did not have the luxury of picking just anyone even if they loved him.

If such a person even _existed_.

Piccolo thrust out a hand and grabbed a fistful of Gohan's hair, like he meant to rip it from his scalp. His striated arm trembled, and his eyes darted to and fro while his emotions fought with his understanding. Then, Piccolo's grip softened and he brushed his fingers through the thick black mess and down across Gohan's forehead, like he used to do when his beloved student was a toddler.

"I'm sorry," Piccolo finally said. "I can do nothing for you in this modern world you have chosen to live in. You have outgrown me yet again."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Father and daughter were shopping for groceries in Satan City. Gohan sensed Videl immediately and knew they should have gone to East City instead. He held Pan's hand tighter.

"Mommy's here," his daughter said. "Can we go see her?"

Gohan feigned nonchalance. "Well, she might be busy today, Pan. We did not call ahead to let her know we would be in the area. Besides, we need to get the groceries for Grandma and for you and me and get home before dinner."

Pan pouted, but nodded and went along with her father down the sidewalk.

While they were in the dairy aisle, Gohan felt a disturbance in the town as the energies of the police force and his ex-wife congregated in a nearby area to the west. He paid it no mind until several lives flickered out simultaneously and suddenly, like the way the sound of a gunshots instantaneously disturbed quiet air.

Gohan regarded his daughter. "Pan," he said.

"Yes, Daddy?" She was a little shaken. Gohan knew he would be explaining death to her soon.

"You know not to talk to strangers, right? And not to take candy from anyone, and if anyone tries to touch you that you should defend yourself, right?"

Pan nodded.

Gohan licked his lips and knelt down to hold her shoulders. "Daddy's going to be right back. I need to go somewhere and help some people. Can you be brave and strong for me and watch the cart? If anything happens, you can come find me by my energy signal. Okay?" Gohan was immensely grateful that Pan was basically immune to gunfire and that she could level the store with a tantrum if she so chose. It did not make him comfortable with leaving his child alone, though.

Still, he could not stand here as people died, and Videl was in danger. Another life force disappeared in the distance. "Okay," Pan said.

"Pick out a treat for you, alright?" Gohan said as he levitated into the air and flew out the sliding doors.

The business offices of a large conglomerate were under a terrorist attack. Gohan briefly remembered reading about a major minority taking issue with the company after it ousted them from their lands. He recalled feeling great sympathy for the people, and that Vegeta had called him a bleeding heart for it when the news about it had played over the television in the Briefs's complex the last time Gohan had taken Pan and Goten over to play.

But Videl was in the line of fire today, so Gohan's sympathies took a backseat to his actions. He landed and systematically incapacitated the hooded figures firing at the police barricade near the entrance. Gohan considered blowing up the guns, but knew if he ignited the bullets in the cartridge rather than outright vaporize them, they would explode and ricochet through the streets. He left them where they lay and looked up at the skyscraper where his wife was.

A pulse of his own life energy revealed that Videl and several officers on the roof were making their way deeper into the building from the top down. The terrorists were most likely holding the employees hostage, but would probably start killing them soon since they no longer had the building secured. Gohan ignored the bewildered media and policemen behind him and strode through the front door of the building.

His shoes clacked coldly against the tile floor as he stopped the conflict floor-by-floor and made his way to intercept Videl before she and her team made it to the center level of the building. That was where the most energies were clustered together, and Gohan figured that the president of the conglomerate was being held there by the leader of the terrorist organization. Very few threatening energies lingered in the upper floors, but Gohan could tell that Videl was checking every room and evacuating anyone she encountered to the roof for an escape by jet copter, probably. Helicopters had too long of a startup time and were more unwieldy. Either way, it would take Videl's team a while to get down where they wanted to be.

Gohan caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window as he slammed a hooded woman in the back with the butt of her own gun. His expression contrasted sharply with his soft, baby blue sweater and khaki dad pants. Even his black hair was beginning to bristle up from stress.

He used to do this kind of thing regularly as Saiyaman, when he was not married and did not have an adorable baby girl waiting for him to come back and for her mother to be safe. It never had gotten to him then.

But Gohan was angry- he was angry that Videl was in danger, he was angry that Videl had _put herself_ in such obvious danger when she had a daughter who would want to see her safe, and he was angry at himself for immediately coming to rescue Videl when he knew it would only make her furious. The reason she did not train to be stronger when they had been together- and why they had stopped being Saiyaman and Saiyawoman- was because she found the obvious disparity between she and Gohan's natural abilities to be condescending. The whole issue made her want to stop trying, and had acted as a catalyst for why she chose to leave rather than take more time for herself within their marriage. Gohan's sudden appearance here would undermine everything she was trying to prove to herself with this divorce.

But her selfishness meant her life or death, and Gohan could not stay his hand when both his and Pan's own wants were on the line. In a way, it was liberating to do something for himself even if it was hiding beneath his daughter's best interest.

Gohan was not a warrior by nature. He was a protector and a nurturer. A hooded figure leapt at Gohan from the shadows and he crushed the terrorist's face with his palm.

Everything was so twisted.

He quelled his fluctuating energy signature and went to the center floors. The two guards trashed the central hallway when they unloaded their cartridges on Gohan, and he waited until they were done before taking them down with a swift kick and a knife hand respectively.

Gohan forced open the door with ease and finished the next group of guards before they even began to open fire on him. Videl was getting closer, and Gohan needed to speed this up.

He quickly and quietly progressed through the floor and stopped outside of a conference room. It was the only place he had yet to infiltrate. Gohan opened the door and then closed it behind him.

Twelve hooded figures trained their weapons on him, and in the center of the room, a thirteenth held a knife to a bound and gagged little boy. Gohan sighed. It was probably the conglomerate president's grandson. _Of course_ they would use an innocent as leverage to get what they wanted from their oppressor rather than confront it directly.

Gohan seriously began to question if he was even doing this more for Pan's benefit than his own or if his daughter was just a convenient excuse.

Still, he wasted no time and moved as a blur around the room to disarm his opponents, starting with the one armed with the knife. As the thirteen figures hit the ground, Gohan untied the child from his gag and bindings. Burning through them with ki would be faster, but it might hurt the boy.

Videl stepped into the room as Gohan finished freeing the little hostage. She said nothing and stared at her ex-husband, seething, while her men raced into the room and cuffed the unconscious terrorists.

"What are you doing here?" She finally said, her voice rising. "You could have blown the whole operation, Gohan! Just because guns can't hurt you, that doesn't mean you can just waltz in and interfere with professional rescue missions! For all you knew, we could-"

One of the downed terrorists regained consciousness and fired his gun at her before he was detained.

Gohan faded in and out of sight before grabbing Videl and stopping the bullets before they hit their mark.

The little boy gasped as he beheld Gohan's sudden golden glow.

Everyone else backed away.

"...Please escort the hostage and the perpetrators out," Videl told her men, pulling out of Gohan's arms. They did as they were told, and left Videl and her ex-husband to stand in silence.

Gohan felt his hair relax as he stared into the enraged, but safe, face of the woman he loved. He reached out to hold her again. She slapped him.

"I don't need you to come save me," she said.

Gohan ducked his head. "I should go. I left... I have to go find Pan," he said.

"You left Pan?!" Videl shrieked. "Just because you wanted to come rush in here and be the big hero, huh? Win back your poor, little ex-wife."

Pride was a sin Gohan could barely understand anymore. He had swallowed his long ago, when Majinn Buu had swallowed him. Still, he knew it was what made Videl's temper rise more than anything else. "And you play with death, and risk leaving her for life when you go and do things like this, things that are this big and this risky. Five officers are dead," he said.

That sobered Videl some, but not nough. She expressed her grief through anger, an unfortunate pattern that almost everyone Gohan knew adhered to. "I'm sorry that not all of us like to pretend that we aren't indestructible, battle-bred _aliens_ and are actually dedicated enough to take real risks to protect the things we value instead of _playing house,_ " she spat.

Gohan took the verbal blow and stood, unmoving.

Videl turned on her heel and walked away. "That was too harsh. I'm sorry," she said.

Gohan reached for her hand to stop her. He did not know exactly what it was he should say, but he wanted comfort, and he wanted her to stay. Even if she was going to be like this to him, he wanted her to stay.

Videl was too guilty to fight, and Gohan wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She knew his secrets, and he loved her. He could not understand why staying together was so out of the question. Gohan untied her dark hair and ran his fingers through it. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her scent.

"Grow up," Videl said, her voice hoarse, and pushed him away. "Find something else to do with your life than chase after me."

Gohan watched her go, incredulous, as he remembered the girl who had pushed him around, stalked him, blackmailed him, made fun of him, married him, had a child with him, and then divorced him because she decided she had been too hasty in making her decisions.

And _she_ had told _him_ to grow up.

He felt tears form in his eyes and the taste of metal in his mouth as he bit into his cheek.

He had been Son Gohan almost all of his life, the dutiful son and the acting Man of the House. It was the only role that he could fulfill, and that fulfilled him. He did not know how to be modern and how to put himself first.

He had no idea how to be Gohan Son, the individual.


	3. Cooperation

**Author's Notes:**

 **Ask, and ye shall (eventually) receive. Also, the rating went up. Be warned!**

 **This installment is very different than the other two because it is written as a more dialogue-based narrative (and is also notably funnier, in a tongue-and-cheek sort of way) but, uh, is related. A lot of the narrative differences spring from the fact that there is not a whole anime full of visual callbacks and existing metaphors I can use for Sevoya without referencing Heavy... heavily, and that wouldn't be too smart of me beause for those of you reading both and those who might in the future, I can't show ALL of my cards at once!**

 **Anyways... meet Sevoya, the man eater. And for those of you who read Heavy and already have met her, you'll know pretty well already what her angle is (and why she's the way she is) even in this AU where she was not lucky enough to meet Gohan in high school.**

 **Hopefully you all still enjoy it (and yes, Videl is still relevant. Just not for this chapter.) Thank you to all of you who read and review! I appreciate it and love talking with you guys!**

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

He sat on a bench on the far side of the playground, his nose in a book, and unobtrusively supervised his daughter and her friends as they played. He did so every Friday afternoon from whenever he and his trio of little girls arrived- usually four o' clock- to six on the dot.

Sevoya had looked him over many times as she scoped out the fathers lingering on the outskirts of the local playground, but had never approached him before. He seemed like he would be uninterested in what Sevoya was interested in him for, and so she had kept to seducing the other, actually married men who were much more obviously receptive to her charms.

Why did Sevoya choose to mess around with this particular demographic?

'Cause good daddies who just want the adventure of a tryst but don't actually want to lose their wives are not only clean, but also don't tend to _talk_. That's why.

Sevoya surveyed her options. The day was foggy and grey, and not many parents had shown up to let their kids play. And worse, the ones that had were mostly female. She looked over the two men in her vicinity: the newcomer silver fox pushing his daughter on the swings (probably a grandfather, and probably with ED) and the seated man reading on the playground's outskirts.

Gohan Son, the man on the bench, was the superior choice out of today's options, but he had also been Sevoya's physics professor last year. That could be a recipe for disaster in and of itself, even though he was also, amazingly, the morally wholesome choice.

In her head, Sevoya laughed at the irony as she plopped down beside him and stretched her legs out into the rich brown mulch beneath the bench.

Gohan Son kept his eyes on his book and his daughter. "You should not be doing this, Miss Anillo," he said. His voice was quiet, but convinced.

"Doing what?" Sevoya asked. "Sitting here? On this bench?" She grinned. "Oh, wait, I know. It's how improper my posture is. Right." She straightened up on her perch and put her legs in front of her, knees together. "Is this better, professor? Do I pass?"

"Please don't pretend like this," Gohan Son said. "It isn't right of you to act as a catalyst for a marriage's dissolvement, and you know it." Apparently, Sevoya's past professor had been keeping a closer eye on his old student than she had thought.

"Oh, so I'm the problem? Not the men with so little self-control that they actually take me seriously?" She crossed her legs. "Their marriage is their responsibility. Not mine."

"It's not good to prey on someone on whom others are depending just to satisfy your own whims," Gohan Son said.

"So," Sevoya said, flipping her hair so it fell around her shoulders, "it's my job to make sure that I never, ever put myself in a position to even maybe jeopardize someone else's wants and needs, in any circumstance? Just go along and be a doormat, with no interest and no spark, no drive for anything, ever? I know you're into the sciences and not so much philosophy, but I expected you to be a lot smarter about breaking it all down. _Professor_ ," she added.

Gohan Son turned the page of his book. "This is hurtful and wasteful in so many ways, and you know it. Stop."

Sevoya rolled her eyes. "Really? Well. If you were still married, and somebody came along and picked you up- no blackmail, no strings, no diseases, no nothing, and took you home and made you feel good for a little while with absolutely no consequence or expectation, would you really pass it up?"

"Yes," Gohan Son's voice was a little meaner and more passionate than she had ever heard it.

Sevoya watched him more closely, and bit the side of her thumb. "Uh-huh. Well, I got news for you- the rest of the world isn't as pure of heart as you are." She stuck her tongue out at him. "And a lot of it is also _still married_."

Sevoya earned herself a stony glare from the mildest, sweetest man she had ever met.

She grinned. "So. Now that we've established that somebody threw away the only good man on the playground, what do you say? You're cute when you're not busy being so sweet that it makes me sick."

His answer was quick and low. "I have a daughter. And I am responsible for her and, today, her friends."

Sevoya sneered. "Your first answer should have been, "I can't risk the school finding out I slept with a former student who dropped out because I gave her a failing grade. It's bad enough that the media and my workplace both gossip about me and how young I am, and how it impedes my daily life." Which, really, how old _are_ you? I saw you in high school at Orange Star, before you graduated early and got on the fast track to becoming a single dad. Your face hasn't changed at all. Only your hair has, and that's suspicious even if we are still barely babes who know nothing of the cruelty of this world."

"You failed most of your tests, even after I added a curve," Gohan Son ignored everything else she said.

"Oh, I know. And that's not actually why I dropped out. I'm not mad at you." Sevoya's smile lit her eyes maliciously. She was going to win this. "What I'm saying is, those are the only real obstacles standing in your way- you know, the opinions of the people who pave your way through academia and the paparazzi who sometimes like to give bad PR and write about Videl Satan's ex-husband when it's a slow news day- and you did not even think about either of those things. You have a daughter, and that's great. But so what? You _don't_ have a wife."

"Please stop," Gohan Son said, looking back at his book.

"Oh, but is Videl coming back?" Sevoya asked, leaning over to catch his eye. " Well, your talk about morals today has certainly made me see the light, 'cause that changes _everything_. It sure would be bad of me to try and get between that reunion nobody but the National Enquirer has mentioned for a whole year." She laughed, but it was humorless. "I'm sure her dad will throw a big hullabaloo about the whole thing. The town will probably even celebrate the affair as much as when it changed its name to Satan City. Won't _that_ be fun?" She got up to leave, and slipped a piece of paper with her number and an address on it into the pages of his book. "And congratulations. I'm so happy it's gonna work out for you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A month later, Sevoya's old professor was standing in the doorway of her tiny apartment, his hands clenched at his sides. Sevoya was still in the same clothes she had gone to work in, and they smelled like The Lucky Egg's daily special.

"Hey," she said, inviting him in. "Most people call first, but delivery is always good, too."

"...Krillin and Yamcha encouraged me to come, and I knew if I called instead of just showing up, I'd never," he looked at the ground like that was enough of an explanation. "They said that I should try the life of a single guy for awhile."

Sevoya shut the door, locked and deadbolted it back how it had been before, and unzipped the back of her dress. It was the one she always wore to catered events because it fit the dress code and made her not feel so much like she was still working at her dad's restaurant. "Cool," she said. "None of that means anything to me, but cool."

Sevoya wrapped her arms around Gohan Son and kissed him before he could keep running his mouth. He backed away into the closed door.

"I'm," Gohan said, "I shouldn't have come. I-I'm sorry." He reached for the doorknob, and broke the door when he forced it to turn despite the deadbolt and snapped the lock off of the wall when he pulled it towards himself.

Sevoya raised her eyebrows. She hadn't thought her apartment to be rundown enough for everything to break so easily.

"I'll, um, I'll pay for that," Son Gohan said. "I'm so sorry!" He tried to close the door back, but it fell back open.

Sevoya shrugged and dragged one of her heavier living room chairs over to the door and used it to prop it closed. "You want something to eat first?" She brought home food from the restaurant every day. Sometimes, she had even been the one to make it. Sevoya was basically every position all at once when she was not a manager.

Gohan Son looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I," he looked from the door to her. "Um," he swallowed. "N-no, you don't need to do anything for me." His stomach growled in opposition.

Sevoya walked to the refrigerator and pulled out whatever she had. "I've got pork roast, potatoes, rice, a vegetable medley, uh…" she threw it all on the table and went to find more while Gohan deliberated over seating himself. "Eat whatever you want and compose yourself. Most of it I wouldn't get to anyway since it's," she looked at the date written on the to go box shoved into the most remote part of the refrigerator, "a week old. Food is like the only thing I've got in surplus."

"That's very kind of you, but it really isn't necessary-"

Sevoya fixed a glass of water and handed it to him. "I'll be back. I'm going to use the restroom."

Sevoya was only gone long enough to brush her teeth and changed from her dress into a robe, but when she came back, all of her food had disappeared and Gohan Son was stacking her entire armada of empty styrofoam boxes into one another.

"I, uh," he swallowed. "I suppose I'm a stress eater?"

Sevoya shrugged. "Leave all of the mess. It just means the kitchen table's not an option." She walked into the bedroom and turned around when she realized he was not following her. "Well?"

Her old professor frowned and shook his head. "This might not be such a good idea after all."

Sevoya rolled her eyes and walked over to him. Her hands were unbuckling his belt before he could say anything about it. "Your goody-two-shoes routine is getting really annoying." She pulled his hands into her robe and kissed him. When he froze up, she kissed his neck instead. "You act like this is some binding thing. Believe me, that's a fantasy. It's not." Sevoya nipped at his neck and started unfastening the buttons of his shirt.

Gohan Son gasped as she bit his ear and pulled his shirt all the way open. Sevoya changed tactics to guide his hands over her breasts and hips.

"It's not worth it if you're not going to be any fun," she told him, and made him start to squeeze wherever he touched. His face went from pink to red, but he was just as shy as before. "Are you such a wet blanket that you can't even enjoy this kind of thing?" Sevoya looked for a weakness. "It's no wonder Videl left you."

Gohan Son looked like he'd been slapped, and Sevoya was ready to actually slap him if he did not fix his attitude.

She refrained. "Ugh. Fine. Come on," she said, and dragged him over to the armchair propped against her front door.

"...It's just that you're not Videl," Gohan said. "I don't even really know who you are."

Sevoya pushed him into the chair. "And I don't really know who _you_ are. And _that_ is exactly why Yamaha and Villain told you to come," she said, sitting in his lap and kissing him. "I'm a chick who is going to screw you and then you are going to walk away. That is the beginning, the middle, and the end of the story. It's not hard." She kissed him harder and thrust a hand just under the waistband of his pants. "You can pretend I'm Videl for all I care, but just don't ask me to roleplay that situation with you for real. I hate pigtails, and I hate her family legacy." Her tongue slid deeper into his mouth. "Her father is a fraud, and I don't give a shit about your feelings on the matter, or what the news says. For all I know, everything she ever claimed and claims to be and do- even _you_ , professor- could be a big lie!"

Gohan Son actually laughed at that. It was an odd sound, considering his expression.

"Whatever," Sevoya said, taking off his glasses and tossing them on the floor. "This is my house and I'll say what I want."

Gohan Son nodded, and considered her. Whatever it was that had made him laugh had changed his mood considerably, because he gingerly moved Sevoya's robe open a little more and timidly explored her body. His touches were soft and sweet, and incredibly slow to accelerate the mood.

Sevoya occupied herself with his mouth and nipples until she felt his interest finally grow from within his pants.

Gohan Son traced the contours of Sevoya's inner thighs and then cast one splayed hand to her lower stomach and the other around to her back. He pulled her closer as he kissed her, and slid the hand on her stomach up to play with her left breast. When she ran out of breath, he sighed as she panted and then buried his face in her neck.

"You smell nice," Gohan Son said, unpinning her hair from its claw to play with it and kissing the side of her jaw. "And you're soft." He breathed in Sevoya's scent and wrapped one arm around her to pull her close. The other one pulled her right hand away from his groin so he could lace their fingers together. "I like just being able to be close to you," he said, and kissed her cheek before pressing his nose into it. "Would you like to get to know each other as people before we do anything more?"

Sevoya wanted to gag from how utterly lovesick he became at the drop of a hat.

Instead, she pushed him away and held him down by the shoulders against the chair. He shyly smiled back at her and moved his hands to her waist.

"Can you just not do anything right?!" She said. "You don't get all sappy lovey-dovey with a one-night stand."

Gohan Son's smile dropped from his face. "Who says this is a one-night stand?"

"I did!" Sevoya said. "Me! That was the whole point!"

Gohan Son blinked and searched the floor as if for answers. "But," he said, looking back up at Sevoya, "why?"

That was the million dollar question. "People leave. That's a fact. I don't like to pretend it isn't going to happen, so I set it up like this so it's all up front." Sevoya could not believe she was actually answering him. "I don't bullshit people, and I don't use them unless they are also getting to use me to. It's fair."

Gohan Son smiled. "Sometimes, people come back, you know."

"Is Videl coming back?" Sevoya shot back.

His smile turned into a grin and he pulled himself closer to her face. "Why are you so concerned whether she is or not?"

"That was supposed to _hurt_ you, not encourage you." She tried a different approach. "So you're just immediately over her now that you think you've got someone else. Just like that. This is how cheap your love is?"

Gohan Son shook his head, and Sevoya knew he was telling the truth. "No. Not at all. Please don't mistake my efforts and affection for flippancy." He sighed. "I'm trying. I'm supposed to enjoy this, right?"

It was beginning to dawn on Sevoya that "lust" on its own was not a subject her ex-professor knew anything about. This was like trying to hold a conversation where both parties spoke two entirely different languages. "Take off your pants," she said, totally unenthused.

When Gohan Son only furrowed his eyebrows and uttered, "Why so soon?" Sevoya jumped off of the chair and did it for him, underwear and all. Then, she tossed them across the room and got on her knees. "You don't have to do that," Gohan Son said, flustered. "You said you wanted this to be fair, right?"

"Someone's got to teach you what it means to be selfish," Sevoya said. "Or in this case, how somebody conducts a fair trade, or when you bang somebody and it doesn't mean anything. And if you sit there and start thinking, "Oh golly gee I'm in love with this girl maybe we can get married!" That means that I have to deal with all of your bullshit- can you imagine the headlines? "Videl Satan's Ex Courting Anti-Savior Satan Conspiracy Theorist! How He's Gone to the Dark Side Since His Wife Left Him! Exclusive Pictures of Gohan Son's Personal "Lilith" Inside!" And worse, you have a kid. So I'll do this for you, and you'll do this for me after you wake up- you'll leave, and you won't come back."

Gohan Son cocked his head. "People think you're a conspiracy theorist?"

"Stop caring enough to ask!" Sevoya hissed, and licked his base.

Gohan Son stiffened in surprise- in every sense- and Sevoya used her hands and tongue to massage him so that he could not form sentences anymore if he wanted to. She heard his fingers dig into the arms of the chair and heard him moan every time she reached his tip with her tongue.

Then, she took a deep breath and swallowed him. Gohan Son gasped and she ran her fingers along his thighs and up to his chest while she held her breath and kept going. Soon, he sank lower into the chair and moved his hips closer to her head. Sevoya pushed on his waist with one hand to remind him to not start thrusting and used the other to tweak one of his nipples.

Sevoya heard the sound of fabric ripping and then of wood splintering as she grew more aggressive with him. At first, she had thought it was her imagination, but as the noises got peaked louder and more consistent, she knew there was nothing else they could be. Sevoya spat Gohan Son out before he was finished and cleared her throat. "What are you doing?"

Gohan Son was leaned back in the chair, heat waves practically rising from his body, and had pressed his hands into her armchair hard enough to not only claw through the upholstery between his fingers, but to break the armrests themselves off of the sides of the chair. " _Why did you stop?_ " he complained, panting.

"You broke my chair!" She said. "This was the sturdiest piece of furniture in the apartment! How did you do that?!" She looked up into his face and then noticed the broken doorknob to the right of his head. Something was strange about it. She stood up and leaned over him to take a closer look. Gohan Son reached up to stroke her stomach and try to gently pull her back down on top of him, but Sevoya brushed him off and stared hard at the doorknob in disbelief.

It was deeply indented everywhere Gohan Son's fingers had touched it, like it were a piece of aluminum foil he had crushed in his hands. The door had indeed not been falling apart before, Sevoya realized; Gohan Son simply possessed an inhuman strength.

Gohan Son put his hands back on Sevoya's hips and tugged again, more insistently. She slapped him away and scrambled across the room. "You… You!" She swallowed and tried to soothe her sore throat, "If you had been holding onto my head, _you would have crushed me!_ " Sevoya began to wonder if Videl Satan, and by extension, her father, really did have the capability to consider someone like Cell a magician if she could withstand conceiving this man's child.

Gohan Son sank even deeper into the chair. "I wouldn't have crushed you. I'm careful about that kind of thing when I'm holding someone else." He shook his head. "I don't let myself get rough."

Sevoya grimaced. "Say, that part of what everybody says is at least true. You're the Great Saiyaman, aren't you?"

Gohan Son nodded and sat up. "Um," he tried to cover himself with his hands but instead winced and pulled away as he brushed up against himself, "please don't tell anyone."

Sevoya gave a dry chuckle. " _Now_ you're getting the idea," she said. "But it's too late. Get out of my apartment."

"I… Oh…" Gohan Son looked down between his knees. "Um, are you not going to, um," he had stopped panting, but maintained his rouged glow.

"No," Sevoya said. "I'm not going to finish you. For all I know, my head could explode or something when you're satisfied. Deal's off."

"That, um, that wouldn't happen," Gohan Son said, trying his best to hide himself with his knees. "Will, um, you please bring me my pants?"

"I'm not coming _near_ you," Sevoya told him.

Gohan Son's smile was tight. "I see." Suddenly, he disappeared from Sevoya's sight and then reappeared with his back towards her, his pants inexplicably back on, adjusting his belt.

"How did you do that?!" Sevoya said. "In fact, _what_ did you just do? What the hell is going on?!"

Gohan Son opened the door out from behind the ruined armchair. "I'm so sorry for troubling you," he said, and quite literally lifted into the air and flew away.

Sevoya was not sure if she needed a stiff drink or a CAT scan.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next morning, a soft knock on the door awoke Sevoya and, after struggling with the ruined furniture holding it closed, opened it to find Gohan Son, a new chair, a set of locks and hardware, and a stack of bento boxes.

"I told you not to come back," Sevoya eventually said, after fighting a long battle with herself over whether or not she should close the door back up and scream until she blacked out. "That had been the deal."

Gohan Son nodded. "But then you said the deal was off." He timidly produced a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. They were about the same bright color as his face. "And, um, I wanted to apologize to you in person. Besides, um," he winced and kept his eyes firmly rooted to his shoes."I couldn't think of a service that would carry all of these things to your doorstep on such short notice. And I, uh, I left my glasses here."

"So now instead of Saiyaman you're a delivery boy," Sevoya muttered to herself, moving into autopilot and taking the flowers with stiff movements.

Gohan Son nodded and fell silent, his hand glued to his belt like he didn't know what to do with it if it was not holding something. Suddenly, he looked up at her. "Actually, see, the thing is, I was the Delivery Boy _first_."

"Excuse me, professor?"

Gohan Son twiddled his thumbs. "Gohan. Please just call me Gohan. And, um, you're… You're right. Hercule Satan never defeated Cell. I did. I'm," he nodded to himself, like it was a good thing he tell someone this, "I'm the Delivery Boy."


	4. Lies and Legends

One day- a Wednesday, actually, when Pan was sick and her father had kept her out of school- the solitude of Pan's father's house was broken by a loud rapping on the door. He had stepped out for a moment to help Pan's grandmother with something. Life insurance, maybe- that is what Pan thought she had heard her father mention on his way out. It did not matter. She was bored of sitting around doing nothing, and so she answered the door since nobody else would have otherwise.

Also, she was curious. Nobody ever came to Mount Paozu without prior invitation, and Pan would have known if her father had been expecting someone. And this visitor was not one of Pan's grandparents, either- they did not knock, not on the front door. This was a rare occurrence indeed.

Pan peered up at her visitor with puffy eyes.

The woman waiting on the other side had her purple hair pulled up in a lopsided bun, and wore a set of emerald earrings that were the same cruel, cool color as her eyes.

"H'lo," Pan said with a cough.

"Oh. Uh," said the woman, "hi. You're, uh, you're Professor Gohan Son's kid?" Her lipstick was bright, too, but her eyelids were painted dark.

Pan nodded and sniffled. Her father had told her not to answer the door by herself, but Pan was plenty strong enough to defend herself if she needed to. More to the point, Pan hardly felt threatened as this stranger looked left and right, as if for a place to go hide, and gave off almost no ki whatsoever.

Yeah, Pan could handle this, no sweat. She was going to be a big girl soon, after all, and she should act like one.

"I've, uh," the woman with the purple hair swallowed. "Is your dad home?" She tried instead.

Pan blinked up at her and pointed to where her grandparents' house sat just over the hill. "He's at grandpa Goku's, helping."

The woman balked. "Goku," she said, "like, _The Monkey King_ grandpa Goku? The _Champion_ of The Twenty Third World Martial Arts Tournament? Lives _there_?"

Pan beamed through the trails of snot running down her face and nodded. This strange lady obviously had a clue, and that was surprisingly rare when it came to Pan's paternal grandparent. "My grandpa Goku is the best." She punctuated her statement by wiping her face on the back of her arm.

"God," the woman said, putting her face in her hands. "I can't believe this."

"You like to talk to Dende, too?" Pan asked.

"Excuse me?" The woman looked back at Pan, half-dazed, and with the beginnings of running makeup forming under her eyes.

"Dende. God's name is Dende. I've been to the Lookout and met him. He likes books almost as much as my dad. I think that's why they're friends."

The woman took a minute to stare blankly and then put her face back into her hands. "Oh my God," she muttered. "Why did I have to go after _him_ and get myself caught up in _this_?"

"I told you. God's name's Dende," Pan corrected patiently and stuffily.

The woman glared at Pan, and her eyeliner was definitely running in rivulets down her face. "You're sick. Go blow your nose and get in bed or something."

"Go wipe your face," Pan countered. She was the only one allowed to boss people around. Well, she and her mother and grandmother and aunt Bulma and Bra and aunt Eighteen. "And don't tell me what to do! You're not my mom!"

The woman was indignant. "You _bet_ I'm not!"

"Yeah!"

"Exactly!"

"Exactly!" Pan parroted because it sounded better than "yeah".

The woman grumbled and pulled out a tissue from her purse to wipe her eyes. "...So it's that bad, huh?"

"You missed a spot," Pan said instead.

"I'm sure," the woman grumbled, pulling out a compact and using it to judge her own face for herself. "Look," she started, I'm here because I was very rude to your dad and wanted to tell him I was sorry. And to return his glasses."

Oh, a fight. This might be juicy. Bra was always describing possible gossip like this as "juicy". Pan thought she learned the word from Marron, but it might have been from her mother. "Whadja do?" Pan sneezed out. "What did you do that was so rude?"

"I… slammed a door in his face while he was trying to talk to me."

"That's it?" Pan asked, still emulating her inner Bra. "There's no way that's it. Tell me."

The woman glared. "No."

"Did you yell at him for not living with my mom anymore?"

The woman looked at Pan a little more seriously. "No. Why?"

"Oh." Pan sniffled again. "Well, that's what the media people do sometimes when they come to knock on the door. And grandma sometimes gets mad about it, too, I think. Sometimes I can hear her shouting about it, or something like that. She's hard to understand when she gets really mad, so I can't really tell. Grandma screams at the media people, too."

The woman ran her hands through her hair. "Okay. Well then. You've helped me reach a decision; I don't want _none_ of you guys' business. So, uh, kid-"

"Son Pan," Pan corrected. "I wanna be Pan Satan but I'm not."

"...Alright. Good to know. So, then, uh, Pan?"

Her name was not that hard. Pan raised her eyebrows high on her heavy forehead and put all of her sass into a condescending nod.

"Yeah. Okay. Forget I ever came here, and, uh, we'll pretend like your dad's glasses magically appeared on the counter and he had overlooked them all along. Okay?" The woman pulled out a thick-rimmed pair of glasses from her purse and held them out to Pan. "Sound good?"

"Lying is not nice, Miss Anillo," Pan's father interjected. His daughter had seen him coming for a while but had chosen not to announce him. "I would appreciate it if you did not influence my daughter with such bad habits." He was smiling despite his words, like everything happening was really some kind of joke only he knew the punchline to.

The woman looked from Pan, to her father, to the glasses, and then back to Pan's father again before she wordlessly thrust the glasses towards him.

Pan's father took them and stuffed them into his shirt pocket. Then, he looked to his daughter. "Panny, I told you not to answer the door while I was at grandma and grandpa's. And you're sick, too." He took Pan by the shoulders and steered her inside.

"But I was bored," Pan complained. "And I can take care of myself!" Her body chose that exact moment to sneeze and cough pathetically.

"I know you _can_ , sweetheart, but that doesn't mean that you _should_ just yet," her father said.

Pan pouted, but did not argue.

"Miss Anillo, would you like to stay for lunch?" Pan's father asked. "I have soup from my mother for Pan to eat _after_ she gets some sleep," he said to his daughter pointedly, "but I have other, more solid food, too, if you would like that."

Miss Anillo looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh, no. No thanks. I, uh, I don't want to, uh, catch whatever your daughter has."

"Oh? Well, suit yourself." Pan's father tapped his daughter on the shoulders. "Go take a nap like a good girl so I can give you more medicine with your lunch after," he said.

Pan dragged her feet as she went to her room and closed the door, but she disobeyed her father and kept one ear plastered to the wood.

"Thank you for bringing back my glasses, Miss Anillo," Pan could hear her father's voice coming through from the other side.

"...Yeah, sure," Miss Anillo said.

Pan was almost bored of the ensuing silence when her father finally decided to break it.

"Is this all you came for? You look like you want something."

Miss Anillo had nothing to say to that.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" Pan's father asked.

"No, I'm…" Miss Anillo trailed off. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for everything last week. It wasn't, um," her shoes made a rapid, nervous tapping noise on the cement doorstep. "I'm sorry. A-and, thank you."

"Thank… me? Excuse me?"

"I-I mean…!"

Pan's ears were not perceptive enough to tell her what happened during this silence, and she once again had to rely on her father to keep the conversation going.

"Why don't we go somewhere else? Would that make it easier for you to say what you want to?"

"N-no," Miss Anillo said. "I'm, um," the sound of shoes on cement transformed to the sound of shoes on dirt. "I've got to go. I, um, I have work tonight."

"Do you have a way home? Did you drive here?"

"I used a cab. I… I don't have a car. But, um, I'll call another one. The one I just used will probably, uh, turn around. Maybe. Um," Miss Anillo floundered.

"If you give me a second, I can ask my father to take you-"

Pan could practically taste the panic in Miss Anillo's voice. "NO! No. I'll… I'll take care of it. It's okay."

"It's perfectly fine- he'll get you home in the blink of an eye."

"Don't… no, it's really, really fine. I, um, I couldn't do that." Miss Anillo's voice grew quiet.

"It really wouldn't be a problem. He's been to Satan City before, so all he'll need to do is-"

" _I don't want Son Goku to take me home! I don't want to have to meet him! Ever!"_ Her voice came out shrill and distraught.

"Miss Anillo," Pan's father said, obviously taken aback, "let's go for a walk so you can calm down. I'll go ask my mom to watch Pan for a minute. Okay? Let's have a talk."

"You're not my _professor_ , professor! A-and you're not my dad! Don't treat me like you do your daughter!"

"I'm not, I'm not," Pan's father soothed. "I just want to help you. Okay?"

"N-no! I don't," Pan could tell that the strange woman with the purple hair was in tears. She really was weird. "Don't help me! You're supposed to be," she hiccuped. "You're a legend. Y- you're a _lie_. _Everything_ is a lie!" She inhaled sharply. "You're _impossible_!"

Pan's father sounded farther away. "No, I'm none of that. I'm a physics professor."

The front door closed and Pan stood riveted, anxiously hoping they would come back inside and she could hear more, until her grandmother came into the house to watch her in her father's sudden absence.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Satan City's streets were clean and colorful, and full of signage emblazoned with Pan's World Champion of a grandfather. Well, one of them, anyway. Mark Satan was legendary, even though Pan's mother would scowl and tell her daughter that Mark Satan was a lie. She also said that she loved him anyway.

Pan's father, on the other hand, smiled cryptically when the subject was brought up. He said that Videl loved her father because her father loved her, and Pan should love Mark Satan, too, because he loved Pan. He said that you should forgive the people you love despite what they do regardless of whether they were a lie or a legend.

Lies and legends- that was what the strange woman who came to visit Pan's father had been talking about, too.

Pan's mother smiled down at her daughter as they walked down the sidewalk. "Do you want to go get something to eat, or do you want to cook something at the apartment?"

"Pizza," Pan decided after a moment's consideration. "I think I want pizza."

"I know just the place," Pan's mother said, and guided her daughter through the streets by the hand.

They passed a parked police car, and the officer opened the door to greet them. "Oh! Videl! Is this your daughter?" He asked.

Pan's mother grinned. "Yeah!"

"She's gotten so big!" The officer squatted and put his hand low to the ground as if measuring air and addressed Pan. "The last time I saw you, you were knee-high to a duck, it seems like! You're growing up to be so beautiful, just like your momma."

"And I'm strong like she is, too!" Pan pridefully added.

Her mother nudged her affectionately. "That's my girl. Say hello to officer Paul."

Pan stuck out her hand for the officer to shake.

The officer grinned as he took his hand away. "I'll bet! Nothin' less from Hercule Satan's family. Maybe one day, you'll be a crime fighter, too! You got a firm grip, there." He stood back up. "I'll let you get on with your day. I just wanted to say hello."

Pan and her mother waved as he got back into his car, and then continued down the street.

Instances like that were very common. Everyone here knew Videl Satan, and everyone loved her. But everyone loved Mark Satan, too, and he was lying to them all.

"Mom?" Pan asked. "You and dad both tell me that grandpa Satan is a fake," she said. "And you both tell me that it's always good to tell the truth. So, um, I don't get it. Are, um," Pan looked at the ground. She did not know how to put words to her great fear- the fear that her mother, her idol, is a liar, too.

A woman's scream cut mother and daughter's conversation short, and the two of them whirled around to find the source. A hooded figure was running down the sidewalk away from a very distraught woman in oversized heels, a black bag tucked under his arm.

"My purse!" The woman shouted.

Pan's mother turned to her daughter. "Stay by the police car," she said, and took off after the thief at lightning speed. When she caught up to the hooded man, Pan's mother grabbed him by the back of his jacket, pulled him to her, and then pinned him to the wall of a nearby building in one smooth motion. Then, she pulled a pair of handcuffs from her back pocket and locked the thief into them.

Pan, who was watching all of this happen by the police car like a good girl, moved over as the officer opened his back door and left it ajar.

"I can't believe people are dumb enough to pull this kind of thing right in front of the eyes of the law," the officer muttered. Then, he winked at Pan. "That's your momma! She's always one step ahead of us all. I think she does more for this city than her father ever did- but then again, I work with her, not your grandpa. They're two different people."

Pan smiled. She had been silly to doubt her mother's greatness, even if only for a second. "My mom's the real deal."

Videl approached and, after searching the perpetrator for any concealed weapons, shoved him into the back of the police car. She had slung the stolen purse over her own arm for convenience, and now took it off and handed it to Pan. "You wanna come with me to give the lady's purse back and ask her for her account of the incident?"

Pan nodded and trotted off, satisfied that the case was closed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Pan and her mother decided to bring the pizza home rather than eat it at the store- the media was exhausting, whenever it caught up to them- and sat at the kitchen table of Videl's little apartment, munching on three pepperoni pizzas (and another one with vegetables, too, because Pan's mother had insisted that they eat something healthy.)

"So," Pan's mother said, "what do you want to do for your birthday? Have you thought about it?"

Pan was turning seven in two months and eighteen days. She would have to ask her father to calculate the minutes and seconds for her later, because she simply could not wait to be a big girl. "I wanna throw a huge party," Pan said. "And I wanna spar with you and grandpa."

"Oh, you might be a little strong for your grandpa Satan," Pan's mother said, grinning.

"No," Pan said. "Not him. Grandpa Goku. And Goten and Trunks, too, and I want grandma to make me a cake. With strawberries. And chocolate. And ice cream." She finished her slice of pizza and grabbed another. "And I want a cheesecake. With more chocolate. All to myself."

Pan's mother nodded. "Okay. I think we can do that. We can have it in your grandpa Satan's house, and you can invite your school friends, too, if you want to."

"But I don't want to have it in grandpa Satan's house," Pan said. "I know I'm not s'posed to tell that he didn't really save the world, but I don't like it. I don't want him to come until he tells everybody the truth."

Pan's mother looked at the ground. "Pan, your grandpa might not ever tell everyone about what really happened. It isn't right that he lies, but he will hurt everyone if he tells the truth. You know that, right?"

"No. Lying hurts people," Pan insisted. "You and dad both told me that."

"Yes," Pan's mother said. "But, see, the people who really saved the world don't," she let her gentle expression show some annoyance as she huffed, "they don't want to be held responsible for it. They want a normal life, and they don't want anybody to know who they are."

"That's what grandma and grandpa Goku say, too. I don't get it. It's still wrong."

Pan's mother folded her hands together and looked her daughter in the eyes. "Pan, the thing is, sometimes people do the wrong things for all of the right reasons. Your grandpa Satan is lying and doing something wrong, but he is helping the person who really saved the world by protecting them from all the attention. Does that make sense?"

Pan gnawed at her pizza. "Is that why grandpa Satan started lying in the first place? Is all his money like a reward for protecting?"

"...That isn't the point." Pan's mother bit her lip. "What I want you to understand is that your grandpa Satan is doing something wrong, but that doesn't make him evil or bad. Sometimes, people make mistakes, and good people do bad things."

"But he doesn't have to do bad things. If the person who saved the world is so strong, can't they protect themselves? Why are they making grandpa Satan do a bad thing when he doesn't have to?"

Pan's mother covered her mouth with her hand. "I know your dad and I agreed that I am not to talk with you about this kind of thing until you are older, but the truth is," she exhaled and covered her forehead instead, "I didn't know the truth until I met the person who saved the world. I can't say that I know the whole situation. But I don't like any of it, either. I don't like the lies, and I don't like living with them."

"Then why don't you stop?"

Pan's mother gave her daughter a long, hard look. "I'm trying to," she said. "Sometimes, adults don't always know what the best thing to do is. But I'm trying to figure that out. And, you know," Pan's mother played with her food a little, like she was still hungry but suddenly did not have the stomach to try to keep eating, "I don't really like the truth about it all, either."

Pan nodded. She liked how her mother would not hide things from her. "Dad doesn't tell me what he thinks. Is that why you are mad at him? Because he liked the lies?"

"Huh? I'm not mad at Gohan," Pan's mother said. "And," she hesitated, "he is not so upset that my father takes the credit for saving the world, no."

"Why not?"

"Well, uh," her mother took a drink of her water to buy time and take the edge off her frustration. "That's an entirely different thing altogether. You'll have to ask him about that because I really," she cleared her throat, "that's for Gohan to tell you."

"Okay. But if you're not mad at dad, can we have my birthday party at his house?" Pan asked.

Pan's mother nodded. "Oh, of course- I mean, if that's okay with him. That'll be easier on Chi Chi anyway."

"Will you come, too?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Her mother started to box the remains of the pizza up.

Pan frowned at her mother. "When you come to dad's, you don't ever stay long and you always look upset." She knew- she was watching. Her father would hide in his study on those days.

Pan's mother put the pizza in the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of chocolate syrup and a container of strawberry cheesecake ice cream- Pan's favorite- and two bowls. "Your dad and I aren't ready to talk to one another yet. But that doesn't mean we're mad at each other. We just have too many things we want to say all at once- I do, anyway, and I don't know if he is ready to listen to it all."

Pan picked up her plate and glass and brought them to the kitchen sink. "When do you think he will be? Do you think you could talk to him at my birthday party?"

Pan's mother stopped scooping ice cream and ran her hands through her daughter's hair. "That's up to him," she said. "But I sure hope so."

"Do you still love dad?" Pan looked up.

"Yeah," her mother said. "I do."

Pan smiled.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At Pan's birthday party, her grandmother made her a giant chocolate cake with strawberries, and another cheesecake just for her. With chocolate. Her whole entire family and classroom commuted to the side of Mount Paozu just for the occasion.

Pan's mother and father said seven words to one another between them.

The seventh, spoken by her father, was "goodbye".

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

According to her family tree, Pan's world was one of magic and mystery, the otherworldly and the odd, and the absolutely impossible wonder of secret encounters with the third kind.

She would never have known it, though, as she watched her dad copy down numbers and equations from some book he was reading. Actually, he might have been filing taxes today or something. It was all the same boring stuff to Pan, really, and it all involved her father, books, and him writing things down either in them or from them.

She pouted from where she sat on the floor. "Dad, can I go to mom's early?" Generally, Pan went to stay with her mother Mondays through Wednesdays, sometimes Sundays, too, but a lot of that depended on her work.

Pan's father closed his books and smiled at her. "Do you want me to come play with you in the woods? Maybe Goten can come, too, if your Grandma hasn't given him a lot of chores today."

It used to give Pan a sort of thrill to be able to make her father drop whatever he was doing and get him do whatever she wanted him to do with her at the drop of a hat, but the novelty had lost its charm pretty quickly. "I wanna go see my friends in the city."

Pan's father nodded. "Oh, do you mean Bra, or your school friends? I can call and see if I can schedule a play date, if you want."

"I want mom to take me." Pan crossed her arms.

"Oh," her father said. "Well, um, she has that big case this weekend, but," he tilted his head towards his daughter, "is there some special reason that you want her to take you?"

Pan was a whole seven years old now and she could care less about tact. "Mom fights bad guys and you just read books all the time. You're lame, dad. You'll embarrass me."

Gohan raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I see." He stood up and pressed a button on his watch. A brightly colored costume appeared on his body in place of his khaki pants and sweater vest. "But you know," he struck a pose. "I used to fight crime, too! I'm the Great Saiyaman!" Then, he descended on his daughter and started to tickle her. "So take that, evildoer!"

Pan swatted him away. "Stop! You look so stupid like that!" She leapt to her feet and crossed her arms. "I'm too old for that now!"

"Nonsense! You are never too old to have fun!" His cheesy superhero voice got on her nerves.

"I'm not six years old anymore, dad!" Pan shouted at him and pulled herself out of his grasp.

"You're right! You're a week over seven!" He grinned. "Speaking of which, why was six afraid of seven?"

"Dad!"

He pulled Pan into his lap and tried to tickle her again. "Because seven eight nine!"

Pan smacked her father in the helmet so that the visor crushed his nose and made him let go of her long enough for her to get to her feet. Then, she planted her hands on her hips and leaned down over him. "Stop that! I don't want to play with you, and I don't want to stay here on the mountain with you, and I don't want you to treat me like a little kid!" She stomped her foot. "I want us to go to mom's!"

Pan's father took off his ridiculous superhero helmet and put it down next to him. "I'm sorry. I know things have been hard for you, sweetheart, and that isn't fair. I was only trying to make you smile. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were still a baby."

Unfortunately, Pan's temper was getting the better of her and so her father's apology fell on deaf ears. "I don't want to hear you say you're sorry! That doesn't mean anything when you say it, 'cause you're always sorry and you don't ever fix things!"

Pan's father- her stupid, timid, boring father, answered her with quiet concern. He could not get it through his head that she wanted a fight. She did not know why she wanted a fight, she only knew that she did.

Specifically, Pan wanted a fight she could win.

"Pan, what's really bothering you? You can talk to me," her father coaxed. "I don't want you to feel so upset inside."

"I don't want to talk to you!" Pan shouted. "I want-! I want-!" She sniffled. "I don't even like you! I don't know why mom married you in the first place since you don't ever do what we want!"

Her father held his arms out to his little girl. "Pan, sweetheart, I'm sorry," he told her. "I can't read your mind, but I'm always here for you. Come here." He tried to pull her into an embrace. "It'll be okay, I promise."

Pan shoved him away and stormed to her room. "No, it won't," she shouted, and slammed her door.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

About ten minutes later, give or take, Pan heard a knock on her window.

"Go away!" Pan shouted through her pillow and did not look up from where she had pressed her face into it. "I don't wanna talk to you, Goten!" Sometimes, her little uncle liked to let himself in so that they could play. He was more like her pesky older brother, really.

"Goten?" The hinges of the window creaked as it opened and the voice of Pan's grandfather came in through it. "But I'm not Goten!"

Pan curled up into her pillow so maybe he would not be able to see that she was crying.

"Do I still have to go away, or can I come in?" Pan's grandfather asked. "Normally I'd just come on in anyway 'cause this is a window and not the door, but Bulma always tells me I should ask anyway."

Pan nodded into her pillow, and her grandfather's weight sank into her mattress as the springs squeaked.

"Does that pillow smell good, or somethin'?"

"No," Pan gave her grandfather attitude. "That's stupid, grandpa."

"Naw, that's not stupid! That's a pillow."

"Stop being like that!" Pan lifted her face and shouted.

Her grandfather pulled her into his lap and Pan did not do anything about it except cling to his shirt. "Like what?"

"You just joke about everything and it sounds like dad!" She shook her head against her grandfather's broad chest. "I don't like that! I hate him!"

"You hate him?" Pan's grandfather stroked her hair. "But... that's a little much, don'tcha think?"

"I dunno!" Pan wailed. She needed her grandfather to understand. "But he doesn't _do_ anything! He just sits there and smiles and acts like everything's okay!" Sometimes, she wished her grandpa Goku were her father, not Son Gohan, because he could do anything. "And he-!" She trailed off into another fit of sobs.

Pan's grandfather rubbed her back and hugged her close. "I'm sorry you're so sad," he said, and stayed with her until she fell asleep.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The next week, Pan's father left Krillin and Marron to stay with Pan.

His daughter heard him mention Miss Anillo- no, Sevoya was her name- to her babysitter from behind a closed door, and suddenly, everything clicked.

Pan decided that, yes, hate really was the word for what she felt, but who exactly she felt it towards, she could not say.


	5. Thank You For Your Honesty

Videl's apartment was modest, but it was _not_ her father's, _not_ her husband's, and rented with _Videl's_ own money. Everything in it was bought with her own money, too. She had her own job.

She had her own friends, too, even though they were consistently late to their lunch dates.

Videl checked the time. If she left her apartment now, she would arrive at the cafe fifteen minutes later than planned, meaning, about ten minutes earlier than Erasa- give or take a few. If she dawdled on her way there, however, Videl could probably avoid the wait time altogether. It sounded like a good plan, and so she grabbed her jacket and went with it.

The day was clear and balmy, and Videl took advantage of the weather and free time by window shopping. The furniture showcase and the designer handbag store did not catch her eye, but the larger stuffed animals and dolls waving to her from behind the panes of the toy store on Satan Boulevard managed to grab her attention.

Pan was like her mother in that she was not much one for girly toys, but she did have the same affinity for plushes that Gohan did. Videl reached for the door.

On second thought, Videl had gotten Pan a pile of birthday presents just last week.

Videl again looked through her own reflection spreading over the window panes. She spotted an action figure of her father sitting front and center on the other side of the glass. He was the poster boy for a series of martial artist action figures.

In fact, the display featured not only Mark Satan, but figures of all the competitors from the last Tenkaichi Budokai. Videl stared at it a little more critically.

Her replica father's plastic grin managed to look even less sincere than the real thing.

She blew him off and peered more intently into the window to see if there were figures of the competitors from tournaments past- Pan would surely find enjoyment out of a novelty action figure of herself.

...So what if Videl had just forbidden herself from giving her daughter another present? This would not just be _any_ present- it would be a tiny _statue_ _of_ _Pan!_ She would love it! Maybe Videl would have a figure in the display somewhere and could get that, too. After all, she had competed in the adult division. Once.

Everyone loved having an ego boost from time to time.

No such luck. All Videl could see was the fake cheer on her tiny, idolized father. She found it condescending and annoying, and felt her cheeks flush deeper the longer she lingered in front of the window.

She had not spoken to the World Champion- not more than a few pleasantries at a time, anyway- since her divorce was finalized. The thought of continuing a staring contest with his visage did not appeal to Videl much, either.

She turned away from her father's plastic legacy with a defiant toss of her ponytail.

Mark Satan- the real one- was paranoid that his fortune would be ripped away from the Satan estate, or that the Sons would come kill both father and daughter in their sleep, or _something_ , and Videl's declaration that she would be living on her own only stoked the flames of his overbearing nature. He had insisted she do otherwise, but Videl's determination to stay out of the clutches of a man- _any_ man, at this point- proved the stronger motivator.

She kicked at a nearby soda container that was sullying the otherwise neat sidewalk. It landed neatly in the trash can to her right.

If her father had been _honest_ about everything in the first place, he would have no need to act like such a frightened caricature of his old self- and Gohan would not have gotten so comfortable hiding beneath the shadow of a mouse!

Did that make _her_ a mouse, too, for getting caught in the middle?

Videl, she wanted to be large. Larger than life. Bigger than all the lies and all the secrets, and just plain better in every way. She just did not know how yet. It made her want to grind her teeth and hit something.

She browsed inside the boutique next to the restaurant she planned to meet Erasa at while she sulked. None of the clothes on the women's racks were really her style, though. She absently wandered to where the men's section quietly sat behind the rows and rows of party dresses and shirts made of nothing but lace. Then, she noticed the display of neckties and felt compelled to pick one up.

Videl and Pan always played a game of guessing which tie Gohan would like best. He was partial to the loudest colors and tackiest patterns, so the real challenge was finding the ugliest combination of both.

Videl's daughter had an incriminating talent for winning every round.

Pan had not acted too keen on playing for Gohan's benefit the last time mother and daughter were together, though. Videl figured that the two of them had gotten into some kind of fight and that Pan was waiting for her father to raise some challenge against her behavior.

Videl frowned. Gohan was no good with confrontation, and he almost never answered back with it. He would shrink back from the fight and try to solve it before it came to a head; Gohan could not fathom the idea that sometimes, people just wanted to be mad, or that they fought because it showed that they were passionate about something- instead of being a dead fish.

Videl put the tie back on the table and decided she had dawdled on Erasa's behalf long enough. She had just turned around to leave the way she came in when her phone rang.

It was a text, and from Erasa. She was bringing someone along.

Videl rolled her eyes and told her best friend that she was not interested in meeting Erasa's newest boyfriend and his brother or cousin or best single friend.

Erasa's disappointment was palpable over the airwaves. Double dates were more like hanging out, not like anything serious! Videl should learn what it meant to casually hang out with a boy who did not cry when she decided to move on with her life!

Videl's best friend was vicious in the most innocent and, more importantly, honest of ways. That was part of why Videl liked her even now, after high school was over and neither of them had to be friends out of necessity of seeing one another every day for eight hours a day. Still, she told Erasa to have fun on her date and that they could do lunch another time.

To which Erasa responded with text faces and a promise to give Videl updates of where they were throughout the day in case she changed her mind.

Videl sighed and put away her phone. Maybe, since she was going to be eating by herself today, she should go to that burger place that she and Erasa consistently agreed to disagree on.

She rolled her neck as she considered her options, and then stopped when she realized that she was being watched.

A woman with purple hair- Videl swore that she recognized her from somewhere- stood in the lingerie section wearing the same face Pan made when she was caught eating candy before dinner time. Then, she snapped her head back down to focus on the rack in front of her and busied herself with rifling through the brassieres and underwear.

Normally, Videl would shrug this kind of thing off- people ogled celebrities and that was unfortunately the way her life went- but she must have gotten a wild hair over it this time because she strode right up to the woman to engage her.

"Hey," Videl said. "You. Miss."

The woman's green earrings glinted in the light as she peeked back up at Videl with a sudden poker face. "Yeah?"

"Don't I know you?"

"...We met once, yeah. But everyone knows who you are while I'm pretty easy to forget, so..."

Videl shook her head. "No, I mean- didn't we go to school together? You were in the other class, weren't you?"

The woman leered at Videl. "Maybe so, maybe no. That's not really important, though, is it?" She turned her attention back to the rack. Specifically, she looked back down at the neglige in her hands. It was much more risqué than Videl would prefer, personally. She eyed the other underwear in the woman's basket critically. It was mundane and conservative by comparison. One pair had kittens on it and another had tiny rolls of sushi. "Is that not a good enough answer?" The woman mumbled.

That sardonic, brisk attitude jogged Videl's memory and made her temper spike. "Hey, don't get all huffy. You were the one staring at me," she said. "I just wanted to be polite and say hello."

The woman's frown dissolved into a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I was in the other class, okay? That's all. You got me. Sorry for staring. Now if you'll excuse me, all I wanna do is buy this underwear, and then leave before I have to go and meet-" a switch flipped somewhere behind the woman's eyes, and an idea dawned on her. "Say," her voice was suddenly a lot sweeter than it had been a second ago. "You recognized me."

Videl nodded. Not everyone was brave enough to tell Videl to her face that her father was a fraud. "It's hard to forget people with hair quite like yours," she said instead.

Videl almost thought she had struck a nerve, but then her old classmate started laughing instead. "Oh, you're still just as spunky as they come, huh?" She held up the neglige to her body, and then pulled another one off of the rack and put it up side-by-side to the first one while she compared them. "As one girl to another, which one would you wear if you were gonna impress someone, huh? You more a sultry red lace type, or do the cutesy bows and more innocent ones do better, in your opinion?" The woman's lipstick highlighted the whiteness in her smile.

Videl was taken aback. "Why would you ask me?"

The woman smiled wider. "Because you're not just honestly brutal, but brutally honest. You'll tell me which one makes me look like a fat sow and which one just makes me look like a whore, right?" She chuckled. "That's really all I want to know at this point."

"I don't even need to get that ugly about it," Videl countered. "You're doing a fine job of that all on your own, lady."

The woman laughed louder. "You don't even remember my name, do you?"

Videl knew she was turning pink at the completely true accusation. "Why does that matter?"

"You're right! It doesn't! It doesn't." The woman gestured back to the nightgowns. "But still. I'm waiting on an answer. Inquiring minds want to know."

"You can't decide on your own?"

Videl's old classmate brushed aside her purple hair with a toss of her head. "No. I can't. But more than that, I wanna know which one tickles your fancy so that I know which one _not_ to wear."

Nature had bestowed upon Videl both an exceptionally modest persuasion and a modest endowment. She scrutinized the choices and then crossed her arms. "I'm not the kind who needs to resort to that sort of thing. I can impress all on my own, thank you." Gohan probably would have preferred the cuter one, or for her to have worn just her regular night shirt.

The woman flashed more teeth. "Lingerie is also for _you_ , not _just_ for someone else. Which one, Videl?"

Videl eyed her competition's body and felt under qualified to participate in this discussion by comparison, but she would not dare let this familiar stranger win. "If it's for you, then why did you ask what I would wear to impress somebody else, huh?"

"Because what impresses _you_ the most on your body is probably also what's most impressive to someone else too, duh!"

Videl had never thought about it that way. She considered lying. "Th-that's a very egotistical way of looking at it, don't you think?"

"Oh? Is that a problem for you? Sharing what'll make you happy instead of keeping it a secret?"

"What?" Videl huffed and chose the answer that she thought would get this woman off her back. "The lace."

The woman nodded, and put the lace neglige back on the rack. "So you're into packaging rather than actual substance. Okay. Cutesy it is, then."

"Hey!" The protest was out of Videl's mouth before she could put her temper in check. "That isn't what I said!"

"Yeah," the woman answered, letting one green eye train itself on Videl, "but it's easy to tell when you're lying."

"Lying? _Lying_?!" Videl ground her teeth. "You listen _here-_!"

The woman cut her off by holding the neglige out over Videl's torso. "It doesn't really suit you, though. Hm." She pulled the lace one back out to model on Videl, too, and then clicked her tongue. "No, neither of them do. There _was_ some truth to what you were saying, after all. That makes this a little harder."

"Don't ignore me!" Videl retaliated, shoving the nightgown out of the way.

"Wow. Excuse me," the woman said. "I was trying to be nice and see this from your point of view. Sorry I actually _listened_ to you earlier, geez." She collected the pile of lace up from the floor and put it back in its rightful place.

Videl's fists were clenched and she was itching for some way to let off some steam. "Where do you get off, acting like this, huh?"

"I asked a _question_. That's not a criminal offense, is it?"

"You think you're real smart, huh, you..." the lack of a name was really getting on Videl's nerves, "...person!"

The woman snickered. " _That's_ scathing. But seriously. What do you do when you're trying to look tempting?" Her eyes flashed to match the exact hue of her poison green earrings. "What did you do with your boy toy when you wanted to play, huh?"

Videl's mind immediately associated Gohan with the question. "That's _none_ of your business!"

"You don't have to get so defensive," the woman said. "Oh! I've got a better idea. Actual outfits. Let's go look at those." She strode over to the clothing department. "What's appropriate for a first date, d'ya think?"

" _Don't you walk away from me, you_ -!"

The woman whirled around and stopped Videl in her tracks. "Videl. Focus. I asked you what you wear on dates. We can have a catfight later. I've only got like half an hour before I have to leave to go put on whatever I pick out, and I'm not about to waste it."

"How should I know!" She sneered. "It's supposed to be whatever you want since it's also for you, right?" Gohan had always been exceptionally excited to see Videl no matter what she wore. He had been great for her self-esteem.

"Yeah, but what do _you_ like that makes _somebody else_ like you, too?"

"...Are you seriously asking me to dress you?"

The woman snorted. "It's not like I have anybody else to ask for a second opinion."

Videl grabbed two pieces off of a rack and tossed them at her pushy companion. "Here. Happy? I've helped you."

The woman rolled her eyes. "These are two pairs of pants. I don't think you're really thinking this out."

"It's not like I _offered_ to help you!" Videl retorted.

"And it's not like I asked you to start talking to me in the first place. But, yanno, while you're here, did your man like a _lady_ in the streets, or-"

"Why would I know that?!" Videl cried.

"Maybe you _asked_?" Her old classmate dryly suggested. "God forbid you listen to someone else besides yourself."

"For your information, I _did ask_ , but he never said!" Videl shot back.

The woman shrugged. "Maybe he didn't know. Did you try different things?"

"I dunno! I cut my hair once because he mentioned something about it, but he didn't seem interested in it either way!"

The familiar stranger turned around, perplexed. "He told you to cut your hair?"

"He never _told_ me anything! I just did it because he said I might want to think about it when I was fighting, and so-"

The woman pulled out a short dress and examined how low the back fell. "So if he'd have even so much as broached the topic of, like, I dunno, a hole in the head, would you have given him one and assumed _that_ was what made him happy?"

"I was _talking_. Did you want to actually listen to me or did you just want to keep me around and pretend like you understand?"

"I dunno. Did you?"

Videl's nostrils flared and she snatched the dress out of the woman's hands. "Excuse me?!"

"Yeah, classic black is probably smarter than the red. But that's…boring. Color. I want color. Maybe… green. Say, what's the general consensus on the color green?"

"I don't know! And I don't care!" Videl was aware of the growing number of salespeople and patrons gaping at the two of them. She hated being inconveniently famous. "This is not what I wanted to accomplish by talking to you. I'm leaving." Videl turned on her heel and stomped off.

"Hey," the woman's voice followed her.

Videl hated that she took the bait and turned around. "What?!"

The woman was looking at her with an unreadable expression. "Thank you for your honesty." Then, she smiled a predator's smile and sauntered over to the jewelry section.


	6. Don't Get Ahead of Yourself

The apartment complex on the perimeter of Satan City was dated by both its faded coloring and wear and tear, but it was clean and sturdy. Gohan clenched his fists and counted the steps to the floor Sevoya's apartment was on.

He could not understand why he was so nervous- he had met this woman before, and she already knew his great, big, world-changing secret, so what was there to be afraid of, anyway? She even knew about Pan, too, and that was the real deal breaker. Besides, he and Sevoya had already…

He felt himself turn pink and turned on his heel away from the door.

Nevermind that Sevoya had come to his house and broken down into tears, or that she had slapped him when he had tried to make her stop crying. And nevermind that his visit today was nothing more than a desperate bid to explain to her about the truth of the day the world was spared from Cell- and why Sevoya did not have any reason to be afraid of Gohan or his father. The how and the why of his visit did not matter.

No. What it boiled down to- really, in the grand scheme of things- was that Gohan had engaged in _intercorse_ with a woman he barely knew, he had _enjoyed_ it, and now he was coming _back_ to her house where they may or may not engage in the same kind of activities again.

Not that he was hoping for that. But it was, after all, a possibility.

And they were not even _engaged_!

He swallowed down guilt mixed with something else he could not identify and wondered why the whole experience felt so much like facing down alien monsters that wanted to kill him. His grand total of one date in high school had not felt like this- so why did he feel this way now? Why with this girl? Why had he never been this frazzled with Videl? He wiped his palms on his shirt. Possible companionship was not worth fraying all of his nerves.

Gohan berated himself once again, stopped in his tracks, and then redirected his course back up the stairs.

He could not run away just because something scared him. He had done enough of that as a child. He was a man now, with responsibilities and a daughter and a divorce and his own house.

If he was going to have a girlfriend, too, he had to go and fight that dragon himself.

A _girlfriend_. Not a fiancé, not a wife, not an ex wife. A girlfriend that he himself asked- not manipulated, not blackmailed, but _asked-_ on a date. And she had said yes. This was new territory in and of itself.

What if she had changed her mind?

Gohan turned around to go back down the stairs again, and then made another U-turn back up them.

But Sevoya was not really his girlfriend, even, and this was not really a date. That had been the whole point. They were only going to talk.

That was all. Talk.

He planted himself in front of the door and reached for the handle.

Wait. Maybe he should bring some more flowers as another apology. No, he had done that last time, the night that he broke her chair. Maybe chocolate? He should turn around and go buy her a box of chocolates. Did she have a favorite kind? Maybe he should buy a sampler, to be safe. But what if she was allergic to chocolate? Gohan racked his brain for a memory of her eating chocolate at any point during her time as his student.

"Oh," said a voice to his left. "You're already here."

Gohan turned and discovered Sevoya with two shopping bags in her hands.

"Oh! Hi! Um," he smiled. "I'm a little, uh, early."

"You said you would be here at five," Sevoya said.

"Y-yeah, I just wanted to make sure I didn't, um, keep you waiting."

"It's not even four," she deadpanned.

"I-I, um," Gohan noticed that his hands were dominating the conversation and instead twiddled his thumbs. "I didn't want to be late."

"Uh-huh."

"The, um, the early bird gets the worm, and all."

Sevoya snorted. "You're creepy."

And Gohan winced. "N-no! I didn't mean, U-um," he swallowed. "I was afraid I would talk myself out of coming if I wasn't early," he admitted, studying his shoes. Then, he gave her face a shy glance. "I didn't think about it when you brought my glasses back to my house, but-"

Sevoya pursed her lips and produced her keys from her purse. "Whatever," she said, and unlocked her door.

Gohan watched her enter and let the door fall closed behind her. Perhaps he should wait in the cafe next door to the complex for an hour. Or go buy the chocolates, or a toy, or something just so that he did not feel so woefully unprepared for this.

Sevoya's green eyes and earrings shone through the dark of her apartment, both harsh and beckoning all at once. "Well? Are you coming in, or are you just gonna stand there and block my door?

Gohan jolted upright and followed her inside, and then closed the door behind him. Sevoya turned on a lamp and walked past the kitchen to sit on the replacement chair Gohan had bought for her in her living room. She put down her bags, crossed her legs, then her arms, and watched him.

The way her green eyes locked onto him as he journeyed further and further into the dim light made him feel even more nervous than he already was. Gohan wondered if he should sit in the smaller chair next to hers or if he should remain standing until she invited him to do so.

"You can sit or stand, I don't care. But you had better say whatever it is you came here to say, or else I'll find something else for you to do with my time."

Gohan jammed his hands into his pockets. "Miss Anillo, I…" he swallowed. He had been practicing this to himself all week, but somehow his words were as reluctant to come out of his mouth as they would have been even without rehearsal.

"Professor, those who _can't do_ teach, and those who _can't teach_ work the service industry. So spit it out before I'm forced to hire you."

"You own the restaurant? I thought…"

"I don't. I do everything else. But that's not the point." Sevoya lifted her chin. "You are the one who wanted to come here and talk to me so badly. So _what_ , professor? What do you have to say to me?"

"I, um, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Gohan said.

"That's it? You already said that. Like three times, at this point."

"No, I mean," he dug his nails into his leg through the lining of his pockets. "I'm sorry that my father's identity upset you. I'm sorry that, um, _my_ identity upset you. I only wanted you to know that we won't hurt you, and that, um," he nodded, "we let Mark- Hercule Satan, that is- take the credit for everything so that we could live normal lives," he finished. "We never wanted the public attention, so-"

"So you married the girl who lived smack dab in the middle of it and did the one thing that made sure you got exactly what you say didn't want," Sevoya finished.

"I…"

"You should've known. Celebrity marriages never last very long, professor. Or did Videl do all the shopping so you never even had to look at the celebrity gossip lining the magazine racks at checkout?"

"W-well, I myself am hardly a celebrity, and I always thought Videl would be-"

Sevoya leaned forward in her chair, and her voice raised from a hiss to something more ragged. "You're _hardly_ a celebrity, but your face was plastered all over every television screen in the entire world on the day that-!" she slammed her fists onto the armrests of her chair and dug her nails in. Gohan could smell the newness of the fabric scattering into the air from the friction.

"I never meant to upset you," Gohan took a step forward, his every move and word tentative.

"And you thought _that_ little bit of news _wouldn't?!_ Well! _I_ never meant to have the _Delivery Boy himself_ calling on me, but look where we are now," she said.

"I know it's a bit much, but I didn't want to, um, to, well, lead… lead you on without telling you that I-"

" _Lead me on?!_ " Sevoya uncrossed her legs and thrust herself forward onto her chair, livid. "I told you- it was a one night stand! I did not _ask_ to know anything about you. I did not _want_ to know anything about you! _You_ are the one who forced that knowledge upon _me_!"

Gohan pulled his hands from his pockets and clasped and unclasped them before finally reaching for Sevoya's shoulders. The look on her face made him think better of it, though, and so he laced his fingers back together. "I just thought," he traced the pattern on the chair's upholstery with his eyes."

"You _thought_? You overthought. You're an idiot."

Maybe. Gohan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples while Sevoya sat back in her chair and glowered at him.

"Is that all you came here _an hour before I wanted you to_ to say?" she spat at him through gritted teeth.

"Well, yes," Gohan said, all the while wondering if that was the truth. "I told you that if, um, if you wanted me to, I would explain to you. About… about what happened. Or, if you needed to see, I would show you that, I, um, was telling the truth."

"I don't want to see." Sevoya glowered, her eyes as bright as her earrings. "You said a lot of things to me, but all I told you was that you could visit today. I _never_ said I wanted to talk."

Gohan swallowed as he willfully stepped out onto thin ice. "Then, why, um, why are you letting me talk now?"

If it were possible, the low light of the room made Sevoya's eyes turned an even more sinister color as she sized him up.

"You look nice," she said, her ire now masked by something sweeter. "You even wore a blazer and a tie." She smiled then, with teeth. "I feel very underdressed." Then, she took off her shoes and stood up, slowly, and let her hands lead her ascent by dragging them up Gohan's stomach and then his chest.

Her fingers deftly loosened Gohan's tie. "That's better, right?" She cooed. He breath was warm.

"I'm," he inhaled, "excuse me, I'm sorry. I was not trying to impose on you or make you-"

Sevoya kissed him. It was softer and slower than the ones she had given him the first time he had stood in this apartment. He resisted for a second, but then leaned into it. Sevoya smelled like her shampoo, and a kitchen, and the streets of the city, and for a moment he could have sworn he could smell Videl in there, too. Surely he was losing his mind, but he put his arms around her and kissed harder because of it all the same.

During the third kiss, probably- he had not been counting- Gohan realized exactly how lonely he was.

Sevoya eventually made him let her go and flashed him a smug smile. "Help me change," she said, and worked his fingers down the buttons of her blouse.

He slid it off her torso when it was open and pressed his nose into her neck. Sevoya smelled more like herself, now, but he still unbuttoned her pants like she asked him and let them drop to the floor.

He swirled the pads of his fingers against her hips and worked up his courage to slide them into her underwear with a few more kisses to her lips. She was softer and curvier than Videl, and taller.

"Don't make me do everything," Sevoya threatened, and ran her fingers through Gohan's hair. "I've still got socks on." She bit his ear and he gave her another kiss in return.

Gohan gently pushed her back into the armchair, wrapping her tongue with his all the way, and let his hands wander wherever they wanted to on their way down her legs and to the elastic of her socks.

He tugged at her underwear next, and she laughed at him. "You don't like games?" She asked, pushing his head down between her breasts. "You don't like to play?" Sevoya undid his belt and pants next.

Gohan moaned and reached for the hook of her bra. Sevoya grabbed beneath the fabric of his pants and between his legs and he accidentally ripped the metal fasteners of her bra out in surprise.

"Ah," he said, pushing his fingers beneath the cups and onto her breasts. "'M sorry." He followed behind his fingers with kisses.

Sevoya toyed with him a little more and then decided to cup his face with her hands instead. Her smile was pretty, but her tone was not. "Shut up."

Gohan moved her bra out of the way and then pressed his face more deeply into her breasts. He nipped at them as he inhaled her scent and ignored the fact that his glasses had fogged up. He felt Sevoya pluck them from his face while his tongue hunted for a nipple and captured it.

Instead of letting him keep what he found, Sevoya turned her body to the side so that her breast rolled away, and then moved back when he pursued. Gohan whined and grew sloppy with his tongue and hands. He loved the taste of someone else's skin, he realized, and how warm another body was against his own, and how much he wanted to have someone to hold and kiss and make love to.

He slid one of her thighs between where his legs met and pressed against her.

"Please," he whispered, reaching his face up to kiss hers.

She kissed back and pulled his hips against her leg. Gohan hissed and sighed, unsure whether he should curse or sing, and pushed his fingers into her underwear.

"Please," he repeated, grinding against her, slow and steady. "Please touch me," he begged. "I need someone. I don't like living and pretending that it's okay that nobody really knows me."

"Gohan," Sevoya sighed into him and kissed him, and the sound of his real name coming out of her mouth made him decide that he could love this girl and never let her go if she would have him. "Gohan," she repeated after another kiss, "I... have to tell you something."

He drank in her green eyes as they took him in and swallowed him whole. "What is it?" he asked, soft and urgent, and surrounded by her smell.

Sevoya's sweetly parted lips and gentle moans turned to sharp, white teeth and acid green earrings. "I don't really give a shit," she said, and thrust her knee into his crotch as hard as she could.

He cried out and went limp as she unceremoniously pushed him off onto the floor.

"I asked you to help me change," Sevoya said. "And I'm hungry. I want dinner from somewhere that isn't where I work, and if you're gonna insist on taking up my day off, then we are going to do what I want."

Gohan craned his head to look over at her as she pulled something out of one of her shopping bags and threw it on over her head.

"Besides, your ex wife really struggled over helping me pick out what to wear today, and I'm not about to let her hard work go to waste just because _you_ got ahead of yourself, _professor_."


End file.
